


Girl from the North Country

by Kurohitenshi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Kid Fic, POV Jon Snow, Prince Jon Snow, R Plus L Equals J, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurohitenshi/pseuds/Kurohitenshi
Summary: For Jonrya Week 2020: Day 6 - SoulmatesPrince Jon of House Targaryen finds an unlikely soulmate in a Northern girl with the same grey eyes as his own, and he loves her with all his heart.Follows the moment he meets her when she's just a baby until the very end of their days.Brief mention: Ned/Ashara (very minor)
Relationships: Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Arya Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 205
Collections: Jonrya Week: January 2020





	Girl from the North Country

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to a good friend I've made through the Jonrya fandom, @blndraws. Thanks for working with me on Jonrya Week!

Jon met his little cousin Arya when he was only five.

His mother, the Princess Consort Lyanna, second wife of Crown Prince Rhaegar, was from the old and noble House of Stark. She was the little sister of the Warden of the North who was Jon's uncle, Lord Eddard Stark, although Jon was told to call him Uncle Ned.

Jon and his mother had traveled to Winterfell when he was five because his aunt, Lady Catelyn, was having a difficult pregnancy. Lady Lysa of House Arryn, who was Lady Catelyn's sister, was supposed to go too but had recently fallen ill, so it fell to the Princess Consort Lyanna to visit her good sister and help out in any way she can.

It was Jon's first time in Winterfell. Riding along on a wheelhouse in the Kings Road was a fun affair that he enjoyed. Sometimes, he and his mother rode outside, she on a white horse and he on a little black pony. His pony's name was _Shadow_ , like its dark and shiny mane, but he was a perfect horse with a good temper.

Along the way, Jon enjoyed the warm sun on his skin, and the cool breeze ruffling his hair. Whenever they stopped to rest during the day, his mother would marvel at all the flowers along the road. Jon would follow her everywhere and pick up flowers too, and soon, he had a bouquet of all colours in his hands.

"Is that for me?" his mother asked with a warm smile as she looked down at him. She looked pretty against the backdrop of the endless sea of flora, and Jon smiled even as he shook his head.

"It's for the baby," Jon revealed with a toothy grin. "The one who will be born in Winterfell soon."

"That is very nice of you," she said, her eyes softening. "But I don't think these will make it all the way to Winterfell. We have two more weeks of travel before we reach Winterfell. I tell you what, my little dragon, I'll help you make the best bouquet for the baby when we are very close to our destination. Is that a deal?"

Jon nodded eagerly. "Deal!"

***

When they reached Winterfell during a snowy afternoon, Jon's aunt Lady Catelyn was already in labour.

His mother hurriedly reintroduced him to his uncles Ned and Benjen before hurrying to the Lady's chambers. Uncle Ned followed her immediately after quickly shaking Jon's hand and giving him a warm smile. Jon was left in the care of his Uncle Benjen, who was a Lord of a holdfast close to The Gift, which was close to the Wall.

"Do you want to meet your cousins, Jon?" Uncle Benjen asked gently, smiling down at him.

Jon nodded his head and, remembering his manners, added, "Yes, please, Uncle Benjen. If it pleases you."

Jon was taken to the nursery where a boy his age and two tiny girls who were younger were playing.

The boy had a miniature wooden version of the castle of Winterfell on the floor and was playing with toy armies, while the girls were brushing the hair of their dolls. While the boy and one of the girls had distinctive auburn hair and blue eyes, the other girl had brown hair and eyes. The two redheads must be his cousins, Robb and Sansa.

"Meet your cousin, Robb, and Sansa. Jeyne, too. This is Prince Jon of House Targaryen. He traveled with your Aunt Lyanna from Kings Landing to help your lady mother out with her difficult pregnancy. Be good to him, okay?"

"Can we go outside to play swords?" Robb asked eagerly as he stood up. At Uncle Benjen's shaking of his head, he frowned before turning his eyes to Jon. Tentatively, he went closer to offer his hand. "How do you do?" he asked, with all the courtesy that a five-year-old heir of Winterfell could muster. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Jon nodded his head, eyeing the other boy carefully. While Jon was lean and tall, his cousin Robb was stocky. He wondered who would win in a fight with wooden swords. When their hands shook, Robb’s grip was strong. "I'm doing well. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

As they sat on cushions on the floor, Robb showed him the setup of his battle formations around his mini Winterfell. The girls gave Jon curious looks, and his cousin Sansa tried to be as courteous as Jon’s half-sister Rhaenys, but being only a little more than a baby, she soon lost interest in him. Jeyne completely ignored him, and soon, both girls were immersed once more in their dolls.

They must have been there for hours, but soon, Jon found himself laughing together with Robb as they let their opposing armies battle it out on the floor.

It was Uncle Benjen who fetched them after announcing the birth of the baby.

”It’s a girl,” Uncle Benjen proclaimed with a brilliant smile full of happiness. Oddly, his eyes looked wet. But that was odd, because why would he cry if he was happy? Uncle Benjen’s voice was hoarse. “She looks like a Stark. Like you, Jon.”

Jon found himself beaming as he followed his uncle and the other children. He had never met another child who had the Stark looks, who looked just like him. The thought made him feel excited.

The Septa at the solar shushed them as they entered. She looked severe and strict. Jon was almost frightened of her. Uncle Ned was holding a tiny bundle of cloth in his arms. And like Uncle Benjen, he looked like he was crying too even as he smiled.

”How is Mother?” Sansa asked as she approached her father. Jeyne stood beside her, ever her close companion.

Robb and Jon stood further back, awaiting instructions.

Uncle Ned looked up and at seeing them, knelt so they could see the bundle in his arms. And as he did, the baby began to cry very loudly.

Sansa covered her ears, surprised that such a little thing could be so loud.

Robb and Jon came closer eagerly, both of them smiling.

“What’s the name of the baby, Father?” Robb asked, his hand hovering close to the baby’s closed fists. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

”It’s a girl, and her name is Arya,” Uncle Ned announced with pride as he looked at Robb and Jon. “Like the grandmother that you both share, Arya of House Flint.”

“She’s very loud,” Sansa commented, her eyes wide as she stared at the baby in confusion. “Why is she so loud, Father?”

Uncle Ned laughed but didn’t answer her. “Come and hold your little sister, Robb. Sansa too.”

Robb looked very proud to hold his little sister as properly as he could while Ned helped little Sansa do the same. But the baby kept on squalling, and soon, Uncle Ned took her back in his arms again.

Despite the noise that the tiny girl was making, Jon was completely amazed. In Kings Landing, he was the youngest of his prince father’s children. He had an older uncle and an aunt who was close to his age, but she lived in Dragonstone with her mother, away from King Aerys, who made Jon nervous.

His half brother and sister, Aegon and Rhaenys, lived in the Red Keep with him, but they weren’t very close. While Aegon looked like their father with his Targaryen hair and eyes, Rhaenys looked entirely like her mother with her Dornish features. In Kings Landing, only Jon and his mother looked the same. It felt so good to finally meet this baby who shared his looks.

This tiny thing was just like Jon. She had his colouring in her hair and eyes, and even his face in miniature. Jon wished that she was _his_ little sister.

”Jon, do you want to hold your cousin too?” Uncle Ned asked kindly.

Jon looked up in surprise and found himself nodding eagerly. “Yes, please, Uncle Ned.”

The baby was placed carefully in his waiting arms, and Jon felt his heart thundering in his chest as it sped up. She was so tiny and light as he held her. Jon was almost afraid of holding her. He was scared that he would unintentionally drop her. But as he stared at her face, she seemed to notice him, and suddenly, her fierce screaming and crying stopped. It was almost as if she could see him and recognise him.

Jon felt a pinprick of agony on his right hand as if he had been burnt, and his heart stopped when Arya's tiny hand suddenly grabbed his. Her tiny fist against his showed a similar mark, a miniature version compared to his. It was a soul mark. His father Rhaegar and his mother Lyanna had the same kind of marks on their hands. Theirs was in the shape of a Winter Rose. But the one that suddenly appeared on his and Arya's was in the shape of two wolves side by side. The picture looked so accurate that Jon felt fearful all of a sudden.

"Uncle Ned!" Jon cried out in panic.

Uncle Ned leaned down, and in his shock, his voice rose as he called out, "Lyanna, come out here!"

Jon's mother, Lyanna, emerged from Lady Catelyn's chambers. She looked tired, and her hair was messy. "Ned, stop screaming! Your wife is sleeping after such a long and difficult labor! What's all this commotion about?"

Uncle Ned motioned to Jon, who was still holding on to Arya as carefully as possible. Jon felt as if Arya was the most precious treasure in the world, and his heart was fluttering in his chest at just being close to her. When his mother leaned down to take a closer look, her eyes widened in shock, and she suddenly stared at Jon, then at the baby, then back at Jon again.

"What is it, Mother?" Jon asked, feeling nervous about the new mark on his hand and Arya's. It still stung a little, but it felt like the picture mark has always belonged there.

Arya yawned, tired from all her crying from earlier. In his arms, she snuggled further, and slowly, her eyes closed as she fell asleep.

"Jon," his mother said, with the biggest smile he has ever seen. "We've just found your soulmate, my little dragon! You're holding her right now. And wolves as your soul marks? You truly have the North in you, Jon. Same as this little girl. She is a true daughter of the North."

Jon blinked in surprise, not truly understanding the implication. But what he did know was that his father and mother were soulmates with soulbonds too. His father had already been married before he met his mother, but the bond between soulmates could never be stopped. This bond was so important. And his father and mother loved each other so much.

Did that mean that Jon will one day marry Arya?

***

After nearly a moon of staying in Winterfell, his mother told him that they would have to go back to Kings Landing for his father was summoning them back. Father missed them terribly, she said.

Jon felt very sad at hearing this. He would miss Winterfell Castle and its summer snows, blackberry tarts, and even the old godswood where Uncle Ned and his mother took him and Robb to pray to the Old Gods. He would miss Robb and their indoor games of seige the castle and outdoor games of playing swords. He would miss Old Nan and her endless stories, Hodor's laughter, and Uncle Ned's kindness and warmth to him. He would even miss Sansa, even though he could hardly relate to her. Most of all, he would miss Arya.

His little cousin loved him and he loved her. Jon always brought flowers for her, which her wet nurse placed in a vase next to her cradle. Whenever she was crying too much, Jon would go to her and sing her a song or tell her a story like his father used to do for him when he was smaller. And she must like his voice for soon, her tears would stop as she looked up at him with an almost wonder in her eyes. Recently, it looked like Arya was smiling at him with her adorable toothless mouth. She was so cute, and Jon loved her so much. He wished that he could take her with them.

The night before their journey back to the capital, Jon asked his mother, "Can we bring Arya home with us?"

His mother laughed as she grinned and ruffled his hair. "No, my little dragon. Arya belongs in Winterfell with her father, mother, and siblings."

"But she belongs with me too!" Jon insisted.

Her eyes softened. "We could invite her to visit us when she's a little older. You could introduce her to your siblings."

He couldn't help but frown. "But I don't want Aegon to claim her too. He says he owns everything just because he will be the king one day."

"Stop pouting, my little dragon," his mother said in a soothing tone. "Arya is your soulmate. Your Uncle Ned and I have recognised this. I will tell your father about your soul mark too."

Jon felt a little better. If his father commanded it so, his brother Aegon would have to comply. And yet, he still felt sad. "It will be too long before I see Arya again, Mother."

"She still has a lot of growing up to do, my little dragon. And you do too. You have a lot of lessons to return to."

"I like it here in Winterfell," Jon admitted. "I wish we lived here instead. Father could just come and live here with us until he has to become the new king."

"I wish it were that easy, Jon," she answered. Although she was still smiling, there was something sad and wistful in her eyes. "I have missed Winterfell so much. I'm happy that you love it as much as I do."

Jon nodded, absently rubbing at the direwolf soul mark on his right hand.

***

The day they left Winterfell, Jon said his formal goodbye to Lady Catelyn and Sansa, shook hands with his Uncles Ned and Benjen, and hugged his cousin Robb. He held Arya for as long as he could, feeling so much for her that he could hardly explain how vast it felt inside his chest. He sniffed the top of her head, loving her sweet baby scent. A terrible weight settled on inside his chest as he stared into her grey eyes.

When his mother told him to hand Arya back to Aunt Catelyn, tears fell from his eyes, and he started to cry. Out of all of them, Jon will miss her the most.

***

The following year, Jon perfected his writing as he kept sending ravens to his cousin Robb, asking about Winterfell and, most of all, the baby. From Robb, he learned that Arya was growing too quickly and she was soon not only walking but dashing everywhere as if she was always in a hurry. Jon had laughed to himself in his chambers as he read Robb’s letter, wishing he was there with her.

As Jon grew older, he began to notice the delicate place he and his mother had in the capital. He had always known that his father Rhaegar loved his mother the most because they were soulmates with similar soul marks. But marrying her as his second wife had also caused tensions with his first wife, Elia of House Martell. People said that while his father married Elia for duty, his mother Lyanna had been for love. Or so he thought. Jon knew that it was probably more complicated than that.

Jon also had an uneasy relationship with the rest of the Targaryen family. His grandfather Aerys was unpredictable and always had different moods. The few times when Jon had to interact with him had thankfully been at formal events where the king wouldn't focus on him too much. Jon wondered if the king liked him for a grandson, but he supposed that it was probably better for him to be in the shadows.

His grandmother Rhaella was very kind, as good and beautiful as his mother. Whenever she visited the capital with her children, she loved to spoil not only Viserys and Daenerys but all of her grandchildren with Rhaegar including Rhaenys, Aegon, and himself. Jon spent a few afternoons snacking on honeycakes and milk with her in the flower gardens, speaking about everything in the world.

With the other children, Jon had an almost formal relationship at first. His half-siblings, Rhaenys and Aegon, were polite enough, but he wasn't always included in their games. Only recently did his half-sister Rhaenys allow him to play with her toys, and slowly, she became like most older sisters, teasing him good-naturedly about a great many things. His Uncle Viserys was a little more harsh, with a disappointed look always directed his way. Jon had learned to ignore him. Aunt Daenerys was his own age and should be the closest to him, but she was closer to Rhaenys, probably because they were the only two girls in the royal family.

During all that time, his greatest companion was the dragon egg his father gifted him on his seventh name day, which later hatched on its own. From it, a tiny blue dragon emerged. Jon had been thrilled because he now had a dragon of his own, just like the rest of the Targaryen children.

One day, his mother called him to her solar to inform him that they will have a visitor soon. Uncle Ned was sailing down on a ship from White Harbour, bringing Arya with him. At three years old, she was strong enough to go on a journey with her father. She will be presented to Jon's prince father Rhaegar, her soul mark compared with his. Jon and Arya will be formally betrothed.

Jon felt odd at hearing that, only knowing Arya to be a baby. But he didn't let it bother him as he looked forward to seeing her again.

***

It was a warm summer day when Jon was taken by a servant to the Queen's Gardens. But it was not his grandmother Rhaella as he expected. Instead, it was his mother Lyanna who stood looking at him with a big smile and with winter roses tucked in her hair.

"What is it, mother?" Jon asked, smiling back at her. His little black dragon was atop his head, as usual, snoozing lazily as if he was just a lizard.

She stepped behind him and put her hands on his shoulder. Slowly, Jon was directed to a part of the garden full of little blue flowers. A small girl sat there, wearing a green dress and an even smaller cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Clutched in her tiny fist was a bunch of the blue flowers she had picked from the ground.

"Jon, remember Arya?" his mother asked him gently. Her voice was warm. "Be nice to her, will you?"

Jon blinked in surprise, trying to relate this child to the baby he knew as Arya Stark. This girl looked like a miniature of his mother almost, with Northern features just like Jon's. She looked a little shy, so Jon went to her slowly, sitting right in front of her on the grass.

"Are you making flower crowns?" he asked curiously.

She nodded, her eyes cast down. She was so tiny still, three years old, to Jon's age of eight. Jon couldn't help but feel protective. They were the only ones here who were of the North. And they were of similar soul marks as well. Jon had never felt a kinship with another child as he did with her.

Jon reached down and began to pull flowers and vines from the ground, assembling it knowingly as his little dragon shifted and snored quietly on his head still. "My mother taught me to make them. She's really good at it."

He looked up once in a while as he worked, happy that she was paying attention to him. When he finished, Jon placed the crown of blue flowers atop her head. She looked up at him with big grey eyes, her whole face flushed.

Jon felt his heart beating quicker, and warmth spread all across his chest. He smiled. "Do you like that?"

She nodded shyly and smiled as she said, "Thank you."

Jon grinned before reintroducing himself. "My name is Jon, your cousin. I met you when you were only a baby."

"I'm not a baby," Arya stated stubbornly, wrinkling her nose. "I'm Arya."

Jon couldn't help but laugh. "I know."

Arya watched him with curiosity too before suddenly zeroing in on the mark on his hand. "A wolf mark!"

"Yes, we have the same mark," Jon nodded, speaking knowingly. "It's because the gods meant for us to be together one day. You and I will marry when we’re older."

Arya shook her head in an adorable way, the petals from the flowers atop her head raining down around her. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "I don't want to be a lady!"

Patiently, Jon only smiled at her kindly. "Not a lady. But you'll be a Princess just as I'm a Prince. But don't worry, it won't be for many years!"

Arya looked relieved. When she looked up at him again, her eyes studied him closer. She said nothing, but her whole face became flushed all of a sudden.

"Friends for now?" Jon suggested.

She nodded vigorously. "Friends!"

Jon wondered what games she liked to play. Did Robb teach her to play monsters-and-maidens, rats and cats, and come-into-my-castle? But when he noticed her staring up at the dragon that was perched on his head, Jon immediately offered, "Do you want to meet my dragon?"

Arya nodded slowly, her eyes growing even bigger as she looked at the tiny creature atop Jon's head. She held her breath as Jon carefully extracted the baby dragon from his head and held it securely in the palm of his hands, careful not to disturb its sleep. Jon smiled at Arya, urging her to come closer. She did, her tiny hands hovering close to the dragon.

"He's not going to hurt you. Just go slowly. That's right, don't worry. I'm here to make sure you won't be harmed," Jon said as he watched her touching the dragon's ridged head. It continued sleeping, unconcerned with her touch. Jon almost giggled in delight, that she was so brave, unlike other children from other Houses.

"What's her name?" Arya asked as she ran her finger gently down the spine of the dragon.

"His name is Rhaegal," Jon said. "Do you like him?"

She looked up shyly and nodded her head. "Can I ride him one day?"

"You will be the only one I'll allow aside from me," Jon vowed. "I promise."

Arya smiled.

***

A simple private meeting occurred that same day between Jon's prince father Rhaegar and his Uncle Ned, with his mother Lyanna and both him and Arya joining in. Father had looked so happy to meet Arya, picking her up immediately and singing a sweet song for her, which made her giggle. Mother had smiled indulgently, but Uncle Ned looked a little nervous. Jon was relieved that his prince father immediately took a liking to Arya.

The betrothal ceremony had been grand in comparison three days later. Mother had dressed Arya in the colours of House Stark, in a white gown with a direwolf stitched in front with a silver thread. Her cloak was light grey with a soft white pelt across her collar. Jon had been dressed in House Targaryen colours, with soft black suede breeches, a red lambswool tunic, a black silk waistcoat, and a crimson cape. He had a miniature sword on his waist, more ceremonial and ornamental than functional. His neck itched from the fabric, but he tried not to scratch it, especially since the king was in the audience.

The crowd that had gathered included the entire Targaryen family, including the distant branches. Jon saw his cousins from House Baratheon consisting of Gendry, Edric, and Shireen. They sat with Aegon and Rhaenys.

"Step forward," King Aerys commanded, grinning in amusement as he watched them. He was in a rare good mood. "Jon, hold her hand."

Jon almost stumbled as he had been worried too much about himself. Hearing his grandfather's command, he looked down at Arya and saw that her lips were trembling. She looked overwhelmed by the crowd that was looking at her. Jon felt panicked, wishing to make her feel better immediately. As advised, he took her hand, pulling her closer to him. His hand was so much bigger than hers, but his touch alone seemed to make her braver.

Out of her own volition, she started to move forward, prompting Jon to do the same. They walked in synch until they stopped in front of the king, who sat on the Iron Throne. Just like they practiced a dozen times, Jon and Arya knelt before the king at the same time.

"Jon and Arya, I do solemnly bless your future union and declare that you are from this day forward betrothed to one another. Let no man or woman ever break your vow. If they try, they shall meet the wrath of the King of the Iron Throne. This, I swear."

"Thank you, your grace," Jon and Arya said at the same time.

The entire hall erupted in cheers, clapping, and excited jubilation. The night afterward was a celebration in honour of Jon and Arya's betrothal.

***

The next two weeks became the best weeks of Jon's life. After getting over her shyness, Arya became excitable and lively. They were always getting into mischief as they ran around the Red Keep. They chased cats, including Rhaenys’s black one called Balerion, and played pranks on Aegon, laughing because they never got caught. They played until Arya became too tired and wanted to have a nap. 

Jon loved nothing more than to lay with her under a tree, their eyes shielded from the sun by the shadows of the leaves above. He would tell her all the stories he knew, and she loved the ones about the warrior women of the past like the queens Visenya Targaryen and Nymeria of the Rhoynar.

Those were some of the happiest days of Jon’s life. Being with Arya and just laughing and playing with her had soothed a part of him that he didn’t even know ached.

And when they parted at the docks of Kings Landing, it had been terrible. Jon was in tears, and Arya was bawling as she clung to him desperately.

”I’ll miss you!” she whispered in his ear as her tears soaked into the collar of his tunic.

Jon sniffed, trying his hardest to be brave for her. “I’ll miss you more. But this isn’t goodbye. I will see you again one day.”

She looked up at him, and despite her tears, she looked hopeful. “Promise?”

”I promise!” Jon vowed.

***

Over the years, Jon begged his prince father to be allowed to go North to visit Arya or to at least extend an invitation so that she could visit him in the Red Keep. But it was a tumultuous time, with his grandfather, King Aerys, growing more erratic in his policies and the cruel way he dealt with his subjects.

Jon sought comfort in a fair few things. As they grew, Jon became closer to his half-siblings Rhaenys and Aegon, despite the tension that remained between their parents. Rhaenys kept them up to date with the latest news and gossip from the castle and made sure that they always conducted themselves like proper princes. 

Aegon became Jon's constant companion as he was sent to all the same lessons like his older brother, from the master-at-arms to the maester. Jon understood that while Aegon will be the king one day, if something ever happened to him, Jon was the spare and will have to take up his duties, the same way that Uncle Ned had to inherit Uncle Brandon's because he had died so young.

As the years went on, Jon kept in constant communication with his cousin Robb and one day, he was pleasantly surprised to find a drawing tucked inside a letter. Arya had drawn a picture of Jon with a dragon on his head, with her standing right next to him. Atop her head was the crown of blue flowers that he had placed there with his own hands.

Jon had almost whooped in delight at learning that she never forgot that memory. From then on, he began to write Arya too, with drawings of little things from his life to match the ones she sent to him, from dragons to swords to the picture of their wolf soul marks on their hands.

As she grew older, her drawings became an unsteady script, and then a confident one that contained a lot of details about her own life from flowers, swords, and wolves. Receiving letters from her was always the highlight of his day.

Rhaegal, his blue dragon, grew enormous, becoming as huge as a stable. Jon learned to ride him quickly, bonding with him so well in his mind. It became a common sight to see three of Prince Rhaegar's children flying high above Kings Landing. The furthest they rode was Dragonstone, where they visited their grandmother and their uncle and aunt, accompanied by their prince father. Aegon was now betrothed to Aunt Daenerys, following the traditional way of marriage between Targaryen family members.

But whenever he was mounted on his dragon, Jon's eyes always looked to the North, where his precious betrothed girl lived.

Jon missed Arya with all his heart that sometimes it hurt just thinking of her.

***

When Jon was thirteen, he received a letter from Arya that made him so angry that he took a week's supply of food and travel necessities, saddled Rhaegal, and flew North.

In the letter, Arya sounded very lonely as she confessed and told him about Sansa, Jeyne, and the rest of the girls calling her cruel names. She could never get her stitches right, and her Septa was always reprimanding her without end. There was no one in Winterfell she could run to, and she felt so alone. Arya told him that she missed him with all her heart.

 _Will I ever see you again? Have you forgotten me?_ Arya asked.

Jon wasn't sure how to get to Winterfell, but over the years, he's committed its precise location in his mind when he pored over maps of Westeros. From high in the sky, the lands looked similar to what was on parchment. Rhaegal seemed to understand his intention, and being sentient, was committed to helping him out.

Thankfully, the weather was agreeable with a warm sun at his back. Jon only stopped for one night, camping out on top of a deserted mountain where he was far away from any civilization. He built a fire, ate his ration, and retook flight the next day. At the end of that day, he saw the grey granite walls of Winterfell's castle and slowly descended to the wide-eyed awe of the smallfolk.

Uncle Ned came quickly outside the castle's gates, mounted on a noble grey steed. His eyes were wide when he discovered that it was only Jon and his dragon, and no other adults with him.

"Prince Jon, my nephew!" Uncle Ned exclaimed in panic as Jon dismounted Rhaegal and stood before him. Uncle Ned bowed in respect. "Where is your prince father? And Lyanna, your mother? Are you all alone?"

Jon felt nervous for the first time since he took off from Kings Landing. He was going to be in a lot of trouble when he returned to the capital.

But all that was forgotten when a small girl came rushing from behind the horses of Uncle Ned and his guards. Arya was bigger now, dressed in a torn and muddy grey dress. Her hair was as tangled as a bird's nest. And she had a huge grin as she came running to Jon.

Jon opened his arms and lifted her, embracing her tightly against his body with so much fervor.

"I missed you!" they said at the same time. They laughed together.

When Jon drew back a little, he saw that she had tears in her eyes. "Are you bringing me with you when you leave this time?"

Jon felt his heart seize. It was his greatest wish never to be parted from her again. "I want to."

Uncle Ned cleared his throat, surprising Jon. Reluctantly, Jon set Arya down on her feet, although he made sure that their hands were laced together.

"You should come into the Great Keep, Jon," Uncle Ned said sternly. "As for your dragon, how will we care for him?"

He felt his cheeks becoming warm. He suddenly felt embarrassed at having to be a burden to his uncle. "He takes care of himself, Uncle Ned. I'm connected to him. I can call him easily if I need him."

Uncle Ned nodded. "See to it that he doesn't cause havoc to the innocent smallfolk of the North, hm?"

"Yes, Uncle Ned."

***

Jon's sudden flight to the North reverberated all the way to Kings Landing. His prince father was furious, and his mother was very upset. They sent a raven to Uncle Ned, thankful that he was so hospitable to their wayward son. Jon was promised months of punishment when he returned to the Red Keep. But surprisingly, it seemed as if they also understood his actions, for they too were soulmates.

 _The heart is all that matters,_ Father said to him in a letter.

In Winterfell, Jon devoted all his attention and time to his betrothed, playing with her and learning more about the girl she had become. He was pleasantly surprised to know that she was not like the other ladies in the realm, the annoying ones who tried to make eyes at him, as if he would ever entertain them when he already had a Northern girl who was his soulmate.

There were endless days when Jon rode horses with her, accompanied by her brothers Robb and Bran, as well as Theon, who was Uncle Ned's ward. Arya was as good of a rider as his mother, Lyanna, and Jon knew no other lady who rode as well as his mother.

One day, after a grim beheading that only the boys were permitted to witness, they came upon a litter of direwolf pups whose mother had been gored to death by a stag. Robb had found five pups and begged his lord father to keep them.

Uncle Ned had refused at first before Jon spoke up.

"There are five direwolf pups, Uncle Ned," he pointed out, with all the confidence of a prince. "One for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is also the sigil of your House."

Uncle Ned sighed and looked at his sons carefully with his grey eyes. "You would have to care for them yourselves," he told Robb and Bran.

"We will!" Robb and Bran promised eagerly.

"Easy to say, and harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants’ time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?”

Bran nodded eagerly. The pup squirmed in his grasp, licked at his face with a warm tongue.

“You must train them as well,” his lord father said. “ _You_ must train them. The kennel master will have nothing to do with these monsters, I promise you that. And the gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalize them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats and slink off at a kick. A direwolf will rip a man’s arm off his shoulder as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, Father,” Bran said.

“Yes,” Robb agreed.

“The pups may die anyway, despite all you do.”

“They won’t die,” Robb said. “We won’t let them die.”

“Keep them then. Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups. It’s time we were back to Winterfell.”

Before they left with the direwolf pups, Jon heard a tiny whine and got off his horse to look for the noise. It was another pup, this one tiny and white, with eyes as red as blood.

Behind him, Theon Greyjoy said, "That one should be killed. It's the runt of the pack."

"No!" Jon protested. "This one's mine!"

Theon laughed in amusement. "The runt of the litter for the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms!"

But Jon paid him no mind as he smiled at the small ball of white fluff in the circle of his arms.

Later that day, Jon held both his white pup, as well as a grey one. The rest of the direwolf pups were already given to the rest of the children, but Arya had been locked in her chambers where her handmaidens bathed her, dressed her, and fixed her hair. When she ran to meet him outside where he waited for her in a covered bridge, the sun was already setting, casting the whole sky in reds and purples.

Arya's eyes were wide as she stared at the direwolf pups in his arms.

"The white one is mine," Jon said with a grin. "I've decided to call him Ghost. The grey one's yours. I picked her, especially for you. I hope you like her!"

She beamed up at him as he handed her the grey pup. In her arms, it squirmed for a moment before leaning up to lick her cheek. She laughed, causing Jon to laugh with her.

"She's perfect!"

"Do you have a name in mind for her?" Jon asked curiously.

Arya nodded her head as she hugged the little grey pup close to her heart. "Nymeria! Like the warrior queen you told me about years ago!"

***

During Jon's last few days there, he was always in a state of panic and anxiety. It was too painful to think of being apart from Arya once again. He wondered how many years they would have to wait until they were together for always.

Did he have to marry her early? She was only eight now. Did he have to wait nine more years to be with her for always? In panic, he asked Uncle Ned when he would allow Arya to live in Kings Landing with him. In response, he only smiled at him kindly and told him that this was a decision that the adults have to make for them.

Lady Catelyn was warier since she didn't truly understand what being soulmates meant. Compared to the old and noble Houses of Targaryen and Stark, the lords and ladies of the Riverlands did not have any soulmates in its long history.

Aunt Catelyn was also disapproving of soulmates because her lord husband's soulmate had not been her, but a lady from Dorne called Lady Ashara Dayne. She had died young and had caused heartache in Uncle Ned. Jon's mother Lyanna's marriage to his father Rhaegar had also been scandalous, and Aunt Catelyn had been disapproving then as she was now towards Jon and Arya.

Jon noticed over the weeks he spent with the Stark family that in Winterfell, it was Arya who was the only outcast, with no one to run to when she was sad or upset. She could not conform to what her lady mother expected of her. She wasn't a proper lady at the age of eight, not sewing well or having the proper courtesies or overtly feminine skills like her older sister. 

Because she preferred to be outdoors, playing with the boys and unconsciously getting her face, hair, and dress dirty, she was shunned by the other girls as well as the women. She was constantly bullied and belittled, and when Aunt Catelyn tried to gently convince Jon that perhaps Sansa would be the better Stark girl to marry instead of her disappointing daughter Arya, Jon became furious.

Full of rage, Jon had stood tall, glad that he could look her straight in the eyes as he said, "You have disrespected me. I am already betrothed to Arya, and she and I are soulmates besides. You offend the gods, and you offend me!"

Aunt Catelyn had never looked more shocked than at that moment, and both her face and Sansa's had been as red as their hair. Uncle Ned was furious at them.

"What made you think?" Uncle Ned said in a raised voice. He gritted his teeth as he spat out, "My lady wife, why would you say that to the prince? And Sansa, you must understand that Jon and Arya belong together, my sweet child. They were destined by the gods to be together. To come between them is a sin against the gods."

Aunt Catelyn’s voice was rough and Sansa’s eyes were wet. "We ask for your forgiveness, Prince Jon."

Jon forced himself to answer diplomatically. "I accept. Do not let it happen again."

***

True to his word from so long ago, Jon only let Arya ride Rhaegal, his dragon. Uncle Ned was protective and cautious so Jon only went as high as the castle's highest tower. In front of him, held tightly in his arms, Arya screamed, wind in her hair and joy in her laughter. Jon wished they could fly for ever.

***

On the day he was to leave for a ship in White Harbour with Uncle Benjen and his direwolf pup Ghost, Jon went to Arya's chambers with a heavy heart.

"I have a present for you," he said to her. "Close the door."

She commanded her pup Nymeria to stand guard outside her door then closed it behind her.

Jon pulled the rags from the object he carried in his arms. Inside was a sword that was small enough to fit in her hands.

"It's so skinny," Arya said, her eyes wide.

"So are you," Jon pointed out. "I had Mikken make this special. The bravos use swords like this in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won't hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you're fast enough."

"I can be quick," she said.

"You will have to practise every day," he replied.

Jon showed her how to hold it, standing behind her and letting both their hands grasp the sword's hilt together. He stepped back and let her feel the weight and balance.

"First lesson," he said, smiling down at her. "Stick them with the pointy end."

Arya rapped him on the arm with the flat of the blade. Jon grinned at her like an idiot.

"I will miss you, cousin," Jon confessed, feeling his heart breaking all over again.

"I wish I was coming with you," Arya said with tears in her eyes. She looked as if she was about to cry.

Jon mussed her hair gently. "Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. Your road and mine will always meet again."

Arya smiled before reaching up for a hug.

Jon laughed as he backed away. "Put the sword down first!"

Shyly, she placed the blade on her bed before jumping up in his arms and showering his face with kisses.

When he set her down, Jon felt better. He went to the door as she kept on admiring her new sword. When the door to her chambers opened, Arya ran to him for a last hug.

Jon held her tightly in the circle of his arms, his heart beating so quickly inside his chest. "I almost forgot. All the best swords have names, you know."

"Oh, does this one have a name?" she asked. "Please tell me!"

Jon grinned as he pulled away and looked directly into her grey eyes. Grey, like his. "Can't you guess? It’s your favourite thing."

Her eyes lit up. She was that quick.

They said the name together at the same time:

_"Needle!"_

***

King Aerys died when Jon was fourteen years old, prompting his father to ascend to the Iron Throne. The lords and ladies of the great Houses of Westeros were there to witness the crowning of their new king. Jon and his half-siblings were dressed in their best finery, and the children of the other houses were there as well.

Uncle Ned had brought his daughters Sansa and Arya, and Jon's heart fluttered when he saw his betrothed Northern girl in the crowd. While Sansa was giving her attention and courtesies to a golden-haired boy from House Lannister, Arya only had eyes for him.

She was dressed in her house colours of grey and white, and she looked very pretty as she smiled at him. Jon barely listened during the crowning ceremony. He was so intent on watching and grinning at his betrothed.

When it was time for the evening dances, his Aunt Daenerys and cousin Sansa turned to him as if to ask him to dance, but Jon turned away and hurried to the gardens where he knew his Arya would have taken off at the first opportunity. He rid himself of his cloak until he was only wearing his white tunic. It was a sweltering day, a day meant to be enjoyed outdoors.

Jon found her in front of a pool, playing with the water. She had removed her stuffy cloak and heavy skirts, only now wearing a white shift. Jon grinned in amusement. She was only nine years old, after all, and it did not matter to him besides. She could do as she pleased, and Jon would still love her no matter what.

She looked up when she noticed him. She smiled at him with love although she was shyer now than before, her cheeks red as she looked at him. Before Jon could say anything, she leaned down and splashed him with water, getting his face and clothes wet. They were in hysterics, laughing together.

But as she continued laughing, Jon paused, his heart beating erratically inside his chest. Arya had always been pretty to him, but now that she was growing bigger and older, she had become _truly gorgeous_.

Jon felt his face growing warmer. He smiled, feeling a love for her that was difficult to contain. It felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

"What?" Arya asked, her face wet and her cheeks as red as his own.

But Jon only laughed as he teased her, "Not telling!"

***

Jon was finally allowed to marry Arya when she turned thirteen and had her moon's blood. He had waited long enough, and the War against the Others was a looming danger to Westeros.

A year ago, Aegon had already married Aunt Daenerys, while Rhaenys was married off to Prince Doran of House Martell. It was only proper that Jon was allowed to marry Arya too.

They were wed at the godswood in Winterfell, away from the prying eyes of the lords and ladies of the Southron houses. It was a family affair only.

And because Arya was still not of age, Jon promised to consummate their marriage only after she was, just like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. It made no matter to Jon. What mattered most was that they were now bound together for life officially, in marriage, in addition to their bond as soulmates.

Their hands were bound together with a strip of cloth as they stood in front of the weirwood. It was a marriage with the combination of his father and mother's religions. Their union was to be blessed by the Old Gods and the New.

And for the first time, Jon and Arya were not going to part again.

***

The next years were full of war and strife as Winter finally arrived. The Wall crumbled, and the Others came en masse. Jon was at the forefront of the defense of Westeros, shoulder to shoulder with his brother Aegon and his cousin Robb. Arya insisted on being there as well, much to Jon's trepidation.

The only consolation was that Arya had become decent at using weapons, a true warrior princess that he adored. When Jon finally took her home to Kings Landing years ago, he had made sure to find the best teachers for her. She had her Braavosi dancing master, as well as the lady knight Brienne of Tarth.

During the War against the Others, as Jon took to the sky on Rhaegal to burn their enemies with the rest of the Targaryens, Arya stood at the battlements with her brothers Bran and Rickon, all of them warging into their direwolves. But it was Nymeria who was the alpha with a great pack of wolves at her disposal, she who led the wolfpack into tearing into the wights' flesh and bones.

The culmination of the battle happened in the godswood when the Night King came for his cousin Bran who had fled there.

Jon and Robb had fought the Night King valiantly, with Arya running to them to help out. The direwolves Grey Wind, Summer, Shaggydog, Nymeria and Ghost battled the wights as knights, lords, and smallfolk men, women and children fought with swords, spears, bows, and maces against the White Walkers.

Together, with Ice in Robb's hands, Blackfyre in Jon's, and Dark Sister in Arya's, they defeated the Night King and ended the Long Night.

But the war had not been without its losses as it had gone on for many moons.

During the war, they had first lost his father, King Rhaegar, and then Arya’s lord father, Uncle Ned. During the battle at Winterfell, two dragons fell as they battled the ice dragons from beyond the Wall. The Night King's White Walkers had gotten to the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. King Aegon and Queen Daenerys had perished as great heroes, alongside many other lords, knights, and smallfolk who had fought to the death in defense of the realm.

***

At the age of twenty, Jon knelt before the Iron Throne and somberly bowed his head in submission to the duty he was about to undertake. Beside him was his constant companion, wife, and soulmate, Arya of House Stark. The ancient crowns of King Jaeherys and Queen Alysanne were placed on their heads at the same time, as Jon had requested.

When they stood and turned around to face their subjects with Ghost and Nymeria by their sides, their hands were clasped together, their soul marks pressed tightly against each other, while their firstborn child grew inside Arya’s womb.

"All hail the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!" they cried in a deafening roar, the rafters shaking as the voices reverberated against the walls of the throne room. "Long may they reign!"

***

It was said that the Seven Kingdoms flourished under the capable hands of King Jon and Queen Arya. They were full of love, and their hearts were always open. It had been a long time since the realm was ruled by soulmates.

People called it destiny, a gift from the gods themselves. Some simply acknowledged that it was love that made them strong, pure and simple, and caused the seven kingdoms to become just as strong.

Jon and Arya loved each other until the day they died, together in each other's arms, their soul marks pressed together just like the day when they met each other as children.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the great and lovely ASOIAF artist @blndraws:  
> (1) [Jon crowns Arya with flowers](https://blndraws.tumblr.com/post/190079833359)  
> (2) [Jon presents Nymeria to Arya](https://blndraws.tumblr.com/post/190458149264)  
> (3) [Gifting of Needle](https://blndraws.tumblr.com/post/190297416024)  
> (4) [Jon realises Arya is gorgeous](https://blndraws.tumblr.com/post/190125569409)  
> Please give her art some love. She draws a lot of beautiful ASOIAF Jonrya fanart.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this one!


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